with them.
“In case you haven’t noticed, some of your employees are men,” I said to Bibi, fighting the urge to flop down in her desk chair out of frustration.
I couldn’t believe she expected me to complete that bucket list within the next three months. And I couldn’t believe I was considering it just so she’d approve the line of girls’ dresses.
“Most of them are married or in a committed relationship,” my grandmother countered. “And you, Honeybee, do not come off as someone who would have a dalliance with a married or taken man.”
“Maybe I have a boyfriend I haven’t told anyone about.”
Right. It didn’t matter if I had a fictitious boyfriend or not. Marrying a boyfriend who didn’t exist wouldn’t cut it. Which meant completing all the items on my bucket list was out of the question.
Was I admitting defeat?
Heck, no.
Bibi arched a disbelieving eyebrow.
“So all I have to do is complete the list within three months, and you’ll give me the okay to create the line of clothing?”
“You have my word on it.”
I nodded because her word was gold. “But how will you know if I’ve done everything on the list?” Only the husband one would be easy to prove. “Are you planning to follow me everywhere?”
She laughed a low muffled sound. “Have you heard of this exciting invention called the camera? I believe all smartphones have them these days. You can easily ask someone to take a photo of you doing each activity.”
My mind whirled like a ballerina in a tutu. It wasn’t like I had a hot hockey player in my back pocket, waiting to kiss me in front of the Eiffel Tower. (Because that would at least cross two items off my list).
“All right.” I held out my hand to her. “You have yourself a deal.”
“Nala,” Robert, Ayanna’s senior art director, said after he and the seven other individuals from the marketing and art departments had spoken to me about the upcoming fashion shoot. “Please tell me you have a hot date tonight.”
We were sitting at the conference-room table, the late afternoon sunlight shining past the slats in the vertical blinds, forming slanted shadows on the wall adjacent to the window.
I inwardly groaned, positive that between his statement and Bibi’s ultimatum, the universe was conspiring against me.
Everyone else looked eagerly at me.
I laughed. “Sorry to disappoint, but you know better than that. It’s just Thistle and me hanging out and maybe watching a movie.”
Thistle?
He was my pet hedgehog.
The best boyfriend a girl could have…if you were a girl hedgehog.
“You should be going out and meeting nice men.”
Yep, the universe was definitely conspiring against me.
“Not everyone can be as lucky as you, Robert.”
If there were an award for Best Husband of the Year, I was pretty sure his husband, Tony, would be on the nomination list.
“Very true. But if you don’t get out and meet someone, you’ll have zero chance of meeting Mr. Right.”
“He’s got a point there,” Alexia said. She and Robert had been with the company since I was in diapers.
Alexia even used to babysit me…back when she was Alexander.
“I don’t need to meet Mr. Right to have a fulfilling life. I’d say my life is pretty complete now.”
Robert made a sound that was a cross between a tut and a disbelieving “Pleeeeease.”
Everyone else’s expressions mirrored his.
“Your life isn’t anywhere near complete,” he said, a raised eyebrow in his tone. “You put in more hours at work than you should. And then you go home to hang out with your hedgehog.”
“Hey, I also spend time with my friends.”
They each gave me a Who-do-you-think-you’re-kidding? look that had me inwardly cringing.
“Well, I do,” I protested—perhaps a little too much, if his one-sided smile was any indication.
Maybe my friends and I didn’t get together as often as my colleagues thought we should, but that was only because when I wasn’t at work, I was busy sewing dresses for girls with special needs. It was thanks to Amelia that I had my small client base.
“Why is it that in the past five years, you’ve never had a boyfriend?” Robert asked, leaning back in his chair. His goatee was white against his deep bronze skin, but his bright-brown eyes still belied his love of life and the arts. Even his suits spoke of his passion for all things classy. “You’re gorgeous, intelligent, funny, passionate, and generous.”
I picked up my pen and fiddled with it. “Maybe I have and just haven’t told you about him.”
That earned me the same disbelieving tutting